


Shards of jagged glass

by UchihaCrow



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Dark Shisui, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, POV Uchiha Itachi, Shisui Is More than A Naruto Copy, Shisui-centric, Uchiha Itachi-centric, Will Be Slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UchihaCrow/pseuds/UchihaCrow
Summary: “Why would you want to watch me train?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.“Because,” the glint of amusement in his eyes seemed to intensify, morphing into something that Itachi could not even come close to naming. “You’re Itachi Uchiha, the genius.” The boy’s words sounded like an insult, even if they aren’t. “And I want to learn from the very best.”
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui
Kudos: 26





	1. Restless

Itachi abruptly froze in the middle of throwing his kunai, causing the fluid movement to end up jerky and uneven. It wasn’t a big difference, but it was enough to send his weapon flying off into the overgrown forest. Itachi frowned, mentally berating himself for allowing his surprise to show so obviously on his face and utterly failing that relatively easy throw. There was no excuse for a Shinobi to let down their guard. If you did - and the situation was sufficiently perilous - you died. No second chance was given for those that weren’t capable of keeping their emotions in check. _Father would be disappointed…_ he thought glumly, walking the short distance to where his kunai had firmly embedded itself into a decomposing fallen tree trunk.

One would think that he would be used to strange people watching him - living up to the hopesand expectations the Uchiha placed on him as their clan heir was not an easily achieved task. Itachi had often been monitored as he trained, tested and prodded to see if he had the true qualities of a leader. The elders usually announced themselves, but it was not an uncommon occurrence for one of the more capable retired ninja to simply observe him from the shadows. Observation was one of the most important skills in a shinobi’s repertoire, especially for an Uchiha and their famed visual jutsu.

If Itachi wasn’t capable enough to distinguish when he was being watched and when he wasn’t, then how could he ever hope to sort through the tangled web of lies and deceit he would one day face as clan chief? Or on a more personal level, how would he be able to become powerful enough to represent his village if he couldn’t distinguish chakrasignatures from the surrounding wildlife?Which was why Itachi constantly honed and improved his sensing abilities just as much as he trained his ninjutsu and taijutsu skills. Itachi studied with a vengeance, and undertook the elders challenges with an ease that managed to assuage any doubts about his future position. He might have even gone overboard on showcasing his affinity for the art of stealth, since most of his clan greeted him with muttered grumbles and almost palpable hostility unless otherwise required. Apparently it rubbed the wrong way that the not-yet-six boy could easily outperform their much older genin and chunin.

Itachi payed them no heed, and slowly the rumours and glances had abated, leaving only a sense of ill-disguised awe. _But,_ Itachi thought as he effortfully twisted his weapon out of the rotten wood, and gently wiped the blade on some damp grass that tentatively sprung up in the small patch of sunlight filtering through the leaves. _Despite the opinion of his clan, he wasn’t perfect._ There were still others much more skilled and talented who could defeat him with hardly any effort. He needed to train, push himself beyond his limits and capabilities until he was stronger than _anyone_ around him. Only then would he have the tools to fulfill his plans…

Stubbornly ignoring the persistent gaze clearly emanating from the sweeping tree that grew at the very back of the overgrown clearing Itachi usually trained in, the boy settled into the familiar stance he adopted whenever he threw kunai. Forcing each and every muscle to relax into a state of semi-awareness, Itachi took a deep breath in. His gaze fell onto the targets scattered around him, fixing their positions and the angles his kunai’s would have to make if they were to accurately hit the tiny black dot that marked the centre in his mind’s eye. Exhaling, he leapt high into the air, quickly twisting into an upside down position. With one flick of his right wrist he sent his first four kunai hurtling into targets, but there was no chance to check their trajectory for gravity was already taking hold. Switching the blades to his dominant hand took no more than a second, but it was still too slow. Falling down on one knee still clutching the kunai in his hands, Itachi let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding.A twinge of annoyancepresented itself when he glared at the immaculate target directly in from of him. This technique was something new that he was trying to learn, and it was by no means finished.

Still, he _had_ managed to throw the first kunai accurately - they formed a perfect circle around one of the red centre rings. He had just not leapt as high as he had hoped and predicted. Resigning himself to redoing the jump, Itachi once again moved into the stance, primarily focusing on the balls of his feet. He would have to let his intuition guide him as to where to aim and attempt to perfect the rest, or at least until it became automatic. He still wasn’t at a level where he could do both things simultaneously.

The back of Itachi’s head prickled, and he resisted the urge to turn around and find out where his stalker was. Ninja do not succumb to distraction.

His second attempt failed, and the third one also. Be it fate or chance, his strikes were just a little off, his speed just a little slower than usual. It was enough to make Itachi incredibly irritated. This had never happened before, and if he had to blame something it would be the distinctly uncomfortable feeling he got whenever out of the corner of his eyes he met the steady gaze of the ninja watching. It gave him the impression that he was disappointing them, which was ridiculous since he had absolutely no idea who that person was in the first place. The boy devoted a few minutes to searching the tree from top to bottom, but he found no trace of anything other than a few startled squirrels.

Finally giving up, Itachi slowly dragged himself home. His limbs ached with an intensity that was only achieved by training. Twilight was rapidly approaching, swallowing the last vestiges of the sun. Itachi still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed, and he found himself looking behind him ever so often before dismissing his worries on whole as unwarranted paranoia. It was definitely just an aftereffect of being stared at the whole afternoon. 

* * *

Later in bed with his covers loosely tucked around him, Itachi couldn’t help but wonder about the mysterious observer. The elders, although they were the first explanation to come to his mind, had ceased monitoring him a while ago. It could be a rival clan, intent on obtaining his not-yet-awakened dojutsu. Or although it was unlikely, someone from outside Konoha altogether. There was also the slight possibility that it was ANBU. Itachi suppressed a shiver. He didn’t scare easily, but the mention of the secret police faction was something that always managed to make goosebumps rise on his skin.

He had heard tales of their chilling missions courtesy of his father - from assasinations the Kohonagakure police force were warned not to investigate to cases that were literally stolen from their hands. The ANBU and the Uchiha rivalry had gone on for as long as Itachi could remember, although it was just now starting to escalate to a point where unbridled hostility was not uncommon. There were rumours circulating, rumours that Itachi had once heard his parents quietly discussing in the dead of night when they had been sure he was sleeping. The Uchiha were being replaced, they had whispered. Slowly but steadily high-ranked missions were being transferred to the ANBU, and although the Hokage gave a myriad of excuses, it didn’t change the fact that no mission higher than an A-rank had been assigned to the Uchiha for months. If the police force was carefully assimilated with the jonin, than it would remove any shred of power that they had once controlled, his father added.

Itachi didn’t particularly care for politics. In his mind, the answer to the problem was very simple. If there were no ninja, then there would be no conflict between opposing factions, since there would be no missions to carelessly quarrel about. Regardless, in the meantime it was not a pleasant idea to contemplate being the ANBU’s target…

* * *

Itachi’s little brother was simply adorable. From the jet-black tufts of hair that stuck up from his forehead to his pudgy impossibly tiny hands, it seemed to him that it was almost unthinkable to believe something as cute as Sasuke could be so uncannily devious. Key word being almost. Itachi stared into the mirror at the front of his high-collared previously black shirt. It now had a disgusting white stain that reeked of regurgitated milk.

He glanced incredulously into the baby’s wide innocent eyes. _Could he have planned this?_ Itachi wondered. His brother had been unusually grabby today, refusing to let go of Itachi’s hair and bursting into tears every time he was taken from his arms. Was this a surprisingly clever ploy to get Itachi to stay at home? He shook his head, banishing the thought. He was reading too much into an infants actions.

When Itachi reached the training grounds, he was pleasantly surprised to see that there was no-one there. Setting his canteen onto the damp ground, Itachi started to do his stretches. Perhaps it was strange for a five-year-old to be so diligent about proper beginning routines, but muscle cramps this early in the morning were pure torture as Itachi knew first hand.After he had finished, he decided to practice the Kage Bunshin no JutsuHis chakra control was reasonably good, but it skittered all over the place whenever he got particularly distracted. Not that Itachi easily lost focus, but it was still something that he should work on.

Forming the single sign with his hands - it was so much easier than most jutsu Itachi read about in books - he carefully used a small amount of his chakra to create a 

double. With a faint _poof_ an exact copy of him appeared, looking faintly bemused at being summoned so suddenly. Itachi carefully studied it’s appearance, trying to see flaws. He remembered the last time he had tried this he had messed up his hair, causing the bangs to hang down almost to his chin. The clone yawned. Itachi finally finished scrutinizing him, and undid the jutsu. A small smile slowly spread on his face. Once one mastered the Kage Bunshin no Jutsu they were, at least in theory at the same level as a chunin. Of course, you learned history in the academy, along with teamwork and chakra theory but in pure raw ninjutsu, he could match a chunin. One small step towards his dream.

It was at that moment when Itachi became aware of the eyes watching him. Once again, they had managed to arrive without a single sound alerting their presence andItachi couldn’t help but think that the only reason he could sense them was because for some unknown reason they wanted him too.

He turned slowly, trying to spot _anything_ that would alert him to a Shinobi. Or an ANBU. His gaze was immediately drawn towards the tree, where a curly haired boy perhaps a few years older than him was lounging on a branch as if he didn’t have a care in the world. A self-satisfied smirk tugged on his lips, and there was a spark of amusement in his coal-black eyes. Itachi immediately disliked him. 

He glared at him, hoping to convey the impression that he would be quite glad if he left as quickly as possible. The grin widened, and the boy lazily sat up, regarding Itachi with a half-lidded gaze. “Intimidation doesn’t work very well for you. You run the risk of seeming… cute.” His voice was rough and husky, and it made every nerve in Itachi’s body tingle with anger.

“I’m not _cute,_ ” he spat, feeling his hand’s ball up into fists. Why was it that this boy could so easily rile him up with just a few words? But it wasn’t just what he spoke, every inch of his body seemed poised in a way to unsettle Itachi from the very moment he lay eyes on him. The very act of opening his mouth was an invitation to annoyance.

“If you say so…” The condescending tone in which the boy said this clearly implied that he didn’t believe him at all. _Shinobi don’t feel emotions. They are separate from them in the way the sun is separate from the ground._ Itachi gritted his teeth, but successfully forced all traces of anger from his face. Unlike this fool, he would not let his dislike for him cloud his words.

“What do you want…?” The way his voice became cold and emotionless was an unfortunate by-product of such tactics. 

“Hmm,” the boy pretended to think, tapping a finger to his mouth. “I want to watch you train, like I was doing before.” The answer surprised Itachi, since he had never expected him to say that. Or openly admit that he was spying on him. He spent a few bewildered moments trying to figure out the angle, the reason why he would ask such a request.

“Why would you want to watch me train?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

“Because,” the glint of amusement in his eyes seemed to intensify, morphing into something that Itachi could not even come close to naming. “You’re Itachi Uchiha, the genius.” The boy’s words sounded like an insult, even if they weren’t. “And I want to learn from the very _best._ ” He moved so quickly that Itachi could barely follow him with his eyes, much less attempt to react appropriately. The boy pressed his head onto the ground at Itachi’s feet, somehow making the action seem both defiant and proud. “Please teach me, Itachi-sama.”His lips curled up mockingly, but his eyes were downcast and hidden in the shadows of his dark curls.

Itachi automatically took a step backwards, unsure of what to do. It was too confusing, matching the boy’s actions and demeanour to his words since they changed too fast for Itachi to keep up or even make any sense of them. Surely he wasn’t serious…?

But the boy didn’t budge, and for the first time Itachi saw the katana strapped to his back.

“Sure?” he said uncertainly. There seemed to be no right answer, only wrong ones. 

“Very well. Then please go on with your training and allow me to watch you…” Thankful to escape the baffling _strangeness_ of the boy, Itachi quickly turned back to his weapons. He decided to start slowly this time, throwing kunai after kunai precisely into the very centre of the target. His blades were accurate enough, but Itachi was constantly aware of that intense gaze boring straight into his back. Analyzing and evaluating him in a way he had never felt before, not even when his father demanded him demonstrate his jutsu.

It was unsettling… 


	2. Names

Shifting his weight to his back foot, Itachi launched a flurry of swift blows towards an imaginary enemy. He spun, ducked down low to avoid a non-existent lunge, and kicked outwards. Itachi could clearly see the mysterious ninja he was sparring against in his mind’s eye; a man with a mask that hung loosely on his face, dressed in a long black cloak that almost reached the ground. The man had a talent for taijutsu, but he wasn’t very well equipped to handle genjutsu, the specialty of the Uchiha Clan, thus making Itachi his worst enemy. This person that had sprung from Itachi’s imagination, was most often his testing dummy for many techniques that he often tried out. Someone who could not feel pain and was willing to spar with him was useful, although limited since Itachi could only imagine how his blows would turn out in real life. Regardless, sparring with your own mind was a way to gain confidence with the many different types of katas, and to gain a fluidity that could not otherwise be easily attained.

“What do you think is the right simile to describe a novice utterly failing to grasp even the most basic kata’s, Itachi-sama?” The boy’s voice rang out loud and obnoxiously clear, easily cutting through the peaceful stillness of the air. Itachi could almost sense his muscles stiffening, his hands itching to curl into fists. Effortfully, he allowed only the slightest of sighs to escape his lips. _Ignore him._ The words had steadily become a mantra over the past few weeks, as Itachi had endured the countless jibes and taunts that the boy seemed to revel in launching at him with almost admirable persistence.

After several afternoons that had descended into pointless trading of insults, Itachi had found that the act of staying silent seemed to annoy the boy much more than any witty reply, or at least that was what he had been able to deduce from his constantly changing expressions and mannerisms.

It was hard though, and he had to be constantly on his guard since the ninja seemed to be more than capable to know and to take the advantage of the precise moment Itachi’s spirits flagged, or his exhaustion bled through. 

“I was thinking that ‘like a snail attempting to reach a particularly stubborn bit of lettuce’ was adequate, although it fails to convey the exact _clumsiness_ of your movements…” 

Especially in times such as these, when Itachi had thoroughly exhausted every bit of his rapidly dwindling patience. He looked up at the boy angrily, his expression one of righteous indignation. “Will you _shut_ _up_ -” The sudden burst of movement made him flinch, and Itachi barely had time to push his arms in front of his face before he was unceremoniously knocked down. The impact made stars flash in Itachi’s vision. The boy’s surprisingly heavy body pinned him to the earth, his face uncomfortably close to Itachi’s own. “What are you doing…?” He hissed furiously through clenched teeth. “Get off-” Itachi’s words were abruptly cut off as the boy placed his hand firmly over Itachi’s mouth. His eyes were narrowed, and his face was deadly serious.

“Stop talking.” Itachi struggled against the curly-haired boy’s grip, kneeing him in the stomach. The boy didn’t seem to feel the blow, or if he did he didn’t show it. He simply sat there, body as taut and tense as a violin string. The boy tilted his head to one side,closing his eyes. He seemed to be listening for something. Tense seconds passed, and Itachi still hadn’t managed to wiggle free or even make the boy budge. He didn’t look it, but the strange shinobi with his onyx-coloured eyes was not only fast but remarkably strong.

Finally, after what felt like hours but couldn’t be more than a couple of minutes, the boy stood up. Dusting himself off, he offered a hand to Itachi. The latter refused, angrily pushed himself up, and glared indignantly at the boy.How _dare_ he knock Itachi down then pretend that nothing had happened! “What in the world did you that for?” He snarled.The boy, ignoring him, absentmindedly made his way to a nearby tree. He pressed his hand to the trunk minutely scrutinizing the knots and whorls. “ ‘Cause I felt like it…” Itachi’s frustration grew exponentially.“That’s not an answer.” Having seemingly exhausted the wonders of _bark,_ the boy leaped onto the lowest branches of the tree. He climbed higher, his body parallel to the ground. _Show off,_ Itachi thought vindictively. If eyes could burn a hole into someones back, then the Uchiha crest would be flaming.

Grinning cheekily as he settled into his usual position, the boy seemed to have regained his utterly annoying goading attitude. “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean that it’s not an answer, Itachi-sama…” Itachi did not bother responding to that, opting instead to return to his training. The ridiculous whims of a fool were far beneath his attention. 

* * *

Slowly, Itachi knocked on the sliding door, anxiously listening for his father’s response. “Father, may I speak with you?” “Yes, but make it quick. I don’t have much time before I have to consult with Tekka and Yashiro…” Fugaku’s gruff voice descended into an absentminded mutter. “Hopefully they actually have _information_ , for once…” Itachi stepped inside the room, carefully sitting with his legs tucked underneath him. His father although kind-hearted made an imposing figure, and Itachi had always regarded him with a mixture of respect, awe and love. It fascinated him how one of the people who had brought him into this world, was referred to in the village as “Wicked eye Fugaku”.

The name, effortfully earned in war, spoke volumes of his father’s strength and mastery of the Sharingan, and that people still used it casually only proved that despite it being almost two years since Konoha made peace with the other nations, his father was still the great warrior he had been at that time. It made Itachi feel rather proud to be his son, especially considering his father’s status as the leader of the Uchiha clan. But then again, it meant that there were a lot of expectations riding on him, and that was one of the aspects that Itachi liked the least. He hated to have to bear the knowledge that if he failed, it could spell a disaster for their clan.

“Well, what was it that you wished to talk to me about?” Fugaku’s voice held tightly reined in impatience, and Itachi would have fidgeted uncomfortably if he hadn’t known better. His father detested displays of weakness.

Itachi took a moment to try to verbalize his question in the most concise way possible.“There is an Uchiha who has been watching me-” “One of the elders? It is traditional for them to observe future candidates for leadership. There is nothing I can do about that.” Itachi wondered if he should simply wait until a more opportune moment. It wasn’t as if was pressed for time, and perhaps tomorrow his father would have fewer things on his mind. He quickly dismissed the thought. Tomorrow Fugaku would be leading an important investigation, Itachi had heard him talking about it, and thus would have even more things on his mind.

The raven cleared his throat and tried again. “It is not the elders who are watching me, Father. It’s another Uchiha, maybe eight or nine years of age…” Itachi brightened as his father seemed to pull away from police-related thoughts and gave him his full attention. “I would like to know his name.” Fugaku reached for a stack of papers and began to leaf through them, discarding the ones he deemed unnecessary. “Is this boy still in the academy?” Itachi shook his head. “No, I believe he is already a ninja.” A thoughtful look entered the man’s eyes. “There’s only one Uchiha who graduated that early, and is of the right age.” Fugaku smiled briefly. “It is good that he is watching you, you would do well to regard him as a role model of sorts…”

Itachi stared at his father dubiously. Surely they were not talking about the same person? “He has been dubbed a prodigy, perhaps you could train with him.” Fugaku seemed pleased at the prospect, and Itachi couldn’t help but feel an ominous foreboding. “But what’s his name?” he asked. “Shisui Uchiha. Son of Aoi, a former shinobi of the police.” Shisui… Itachi decided that the name fit the boy perfectly. But _Shisui_ certainly wasn’t the exemplar shinobi that his father believed he was.

His mother entered the room, and Itachi startled, so engrossed in his thoughts he had been. “Sorry for interrupting.” Mikoto cast a sympathetic glance at Itachi. She knew how rare it was for Fugaku to devote so much time like this, especially right before an important mission.“But Yashiro and Tekka have been asking for you, Fugaku…” The Uchiha nodded. “Send them in.”

Itachi quickly got to his feet. “Thank you, Father.” He left, following his mother into the kitchen. “Are you hungry, Itachi?” “Not at the moment, thank you.” His mother shook her head, as she returned to the pile of dirty dishes that she had been washing. “Sometimes I think I did something wrong. You’re too polite for a five-year-old…” Her voice was soft, and obviously not intended for his ears, but Itachi still heard every word. He frowned. He had not intended to worry his mother in this way. Perhaps he should begin to act more childish, although he doubted that would work. His mother knew him all too well for him to be able to pretend in front of her.

“Mother, do you know Shisui Uchiha?” Mikoto placed a dish in the cupboard. “Emiko’s son? Not particularly well.” She turned towards Itachi, drying her hands on a towel. “I heard he fought in the third great shinobi war, an astonishing feat for a child so young.” That made Itachi pause. He had seen the ravages of shinobi war, and if Shisui had survived it… Well, then he was a lot stronger than Itachi had ever imagined. It certainly explained his father’s admiration.

“Thank you.” Itachi regretted the words as soon they slipped out of his mouth. Hadn’t he just resolved to be more informal? His mother smiled, somewhat sadly. “Your welcome.” A baby crying from another room made both of them instinctively turn.“Oh, dear. Sasuke’s awake again.” Itachi, anxious to be helpful, quickly spoke. “I’ll put him back to sleep.” Mikoto nodded. “All right. Call me if you need any help.” Itachi didn’t need help, not with Sasuke. He was fairly certain that his little brother was calmer with him than with anyone else in the house.He was also almost as certain that his mother knew this. Nevertheless, he appreciated her offer. “Yeah.”Simple and informal. It was ridiculous how much effort it took him not to add ‘thank you’. 

* * *

As Itachi cradled Sasuke, slowly rocking the baby back to sleep, he realized that now that he knew the boy’s name, it would be much simpler to ignore him. The name was like a talisman, an amulet that protected him from Shisui’s taunts. A shield that provided both offence and defence, composed of the weighty knowledge of the name, the boy’s exploits, and the admiration that his parents bestowed upon him. Itachi felt a sort of perverse satisfaction in comparing Shisui’s actions with the image the clan held of him. It was almost laughable how the proud Uchiha were mistaken.

Furthermore, while before he had been at the disadvantage, completely taken aback by the boy’s mannerisms and oddities, his strength and his deep knowledge of Itachi,now that mask had been stripped away a little. Yes, Shisui knew his name, knew his weaknesses and knew how to push his buttons, but Itachi now knew a little bit about him too. He could deal with an overrated prodigy.

Sasuke yawned, his fingers closed around Itachi’s thumb. Gently extricating himself from the baby’s grasp, the raven carefully placed Sasuke back in his crib. His little brother rolled over to one side and closed his eyes. A line of drool dripped from his chubby mouth. Itachi smiled. “Sleep soundly, Sasuke.” 

Now that Itachi had a way of countering Shisui, he could hardly wait to put it to the test. He was certain that it would work, although one can’t ever be completely certain of something before trying it out. However, regardless if his overall plan worked or not, Itachi was sure that it would irritate Shisui. That was what his idea hinged on, after all. 

His euphoria did not go unnoticed by the said boy, who pounced on the opportunity as a cat did on a mouse. But Shisui’s comments of, “You look so happy Itachi-sama! Are you sure you’re training hard enough?” were not scathing enough for what Itachi had in mind, so he ignored them.

Itachi had been almost lazily throwing kunai, the blades biting deep into the black dot on the targets when Shisui finally said something that Itachi could use. “Some people,” Shisui said, his voice unusually cold and hard. “Believe they are prodigies. They train desperately, pathetically trying to live up to the titles bestowed upon them, unaware that they are nothing more than foolish, arrogant children.” Itachi slowly got up, walking towards the boy. Despite his confidence earlier regarding Shisui’s name, the insult still stung, lodging deep and heavy like stones inside his gut. He pushed it away, concentrating instead on the task at hand.

“If I’m an arrogant foolish child, then why do you wish to learn from me?” Itachi’s voice was as sweet and innocent as any normal five-year-old child’s. And despite his words, he spoke without malice. He truly did not understand. “Wouldn’t it be better if I learned from you, _Shisui-sama_?” Now he injected sarcasm into his tone, and he was gratified to see a flicker of annoyance in the boy’s eyes. “I’ll follow you everywhere and watch you train. Father said that I should see you as a _role model,_ and train with you _always,_ you know. He said you are a _genius._ ” Itachi’s voice was still sickeningly sweet, it almost made him throw up.

Fawning, Itachi knew, was a thing that he hated most of all, and he sensed that Shisui was like him in that particular aspect. Already his lip was curling, and the ninja had taken a step back. If fawning was what it took to make the boy leave him alone, Itachi had no qualms in doing it as convincingly as possible. 

He moved forward. “Please train me, S _hisui-sama…_ I am sure Father would be most pleased.” Itachi expected Shisui to leave. He expected him to use his considerable speed, and disappear. That was what he would have done if he was in Shisui’s place. Except Shisui didn’t. He laughed. A full-throated laugh, that went on and on and seemed as if it would never stop. Itachi hadn’t seen Shisui laugh before, and it frightened him. It was almost entirely devoid of any real mirth.

The laughter gradually died down, and Shisui smirked. He leaned forward. “Did you really think that you had me _all figured out_ …?” There was a curious undertone to his voice, a richness that Itachi had never heard before. Shisui went on. “Little Itachi, learning how to manipulate people’s words and emotions, without ever being fully aware of what he’s doing.”

Itachi glared at him, dropping all pretence at innocence. Somehow, it seemed to always come to this, this battle with their eyes, where they both could clearly read what the other was saying without ever speaking a word.“Leave me alone,” Itachi growled, finally breaking their little staring contest. Shisui clicked his tongue. ”I am not like you. You won’t get rid of me so easily.” Itachi turned away without saying a word, heading towards his house. “But still, outstanding effort. You really are a genius at lying. You’re just not as good as me.” Shisui’s arrogant voice followed him all the way home.


End file.
